Nothing Ever Goes According to Plan

Something to know about me is that I’m a bit of a control freak. I like to plan. No, I love to plan. I need to know the step-by-step of what every day will look like, or I get incredibly anxious. I’m not great at going with the flow, and when my plans change, I’m a wreck.

That being said, you’d think I would learn to be better at rolling with the punches, considering nothing ever goes according to plan.

In my intro, I talked about the plan I had when I was younger and what I expected my life to look like. Honestly, that was more of a dream than a plan. I had a plan, a real one, and then everything changed, and it left me spiraling.

The plan was set, everyone was informed, and I was ready. But that’s the thing about life: we plan, and God laughs.

The plan went as follows: graduate college, travel a bit during the summer, move to Baltimore, have my boyfriend start his master’s program at Johns Hopkins, I get a job, we live with my dad for a year, and then we decide where to go after that. Everything was set, and then immigration became an issue — and so did funding. That meant no Johns Hopkins and my boyfriend stuck in Brazil.

I thought everything was ready to go. I was packed, he was packed, we were ready to move… and then we weren’t.

I was stuck at an impasse.

Do I continue on to Maryland and hope my boyfriend will be there the year after? Or do I move back in with my mom and build up my savings in a familiar environment?

So, I made a decision. Not everyone was happy with it, and I only informed a few people, but I did what I knew would be best for me at the time. I stayed in Florida, moved back home, and got a job. Was this my first choice? Not by any means.

Nobody talks about how degrading it feels to move back home after living on your own in college. Not that it would have changed my decision, but it would have made me feel seen.

I went from leaving whenever I wanted, showering at whatever time I wanted, having a perfectly clean kitchen and bathroom, and using the laundry machines whenever I felt like it, to sharing a schedule with other people and having to work around their routines.

I probably sound like I’m complaining, and maybe I am, but going from complete independence to whatever this is… sucks.

Despite the fact that I’ve been less than ecstatic about moving home, I can’t deny there are good things that come with it. More time to see my grandparents. I get to work with my best friend. The environment is familiar, and I know what to expect, although there have been surprises along the way. There’s a bright side to everything, or at least that’s what I tell myself so I won’t cry about the fact that my plans didn’t come to fruition.

With the help of my friends, and a great therapist, I’m learning to navigate life and all of its changes, despite how much it scares me.

I’m still planning; I don’t think I’ll ever stop doing that. But now I’m leaving room to go with the flow. Breaks to do nothing. Time to relax. Jumping in on last-minute plans, ones I didn’t plan. I’m even going on a trip that I didn’t plan… and this is a big deal, folks. I didn’t plan the destination, the timing, or the activities, I’m just showing up! This is something I’ve never done before, and it’s a huge deal.

Every experience is a lesson, and unfortunately, this is one of the harder ones for me. But I can handle it. After all, who doesn’t love a surprise?

All my love always,

RK